


To Be Alone With You

by ritesofreverie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Artist Reader, Artist Steve Rogers, Consensual Non-Monogamy, Drama, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Infidelity, Modern AU, Romance, Smut, Sort Of, Steve Rogers x Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritesofreverie/pseuds/ritesofreverie
Summary: When Steve Rogers agreed to an open marriage with his wife, he never could have imagined the day where she would confess that she had fallen in love with someone else. Though the two of them are trying to make it work, something still seems to be missing. And maybe, just maybe, Steve happens to find that something missing in the form of an independent, altruistic art teacher who is too chaotic for her own good.Pairings: Steve Rogers x ReaderWarnings: infidelity (sort of), swearing, and smut to come in later chapters
Relationships: Sharon Carter/Carol Danvers, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	To Be Alone With You

The golden hues of the afternoon sun radiate through the oak windows as it illuminates the studio’s room, pronouncing each stroke of colour and decorating it with soft shadows. It calms Steve, who’s heart was pounding against his chest in a flurry of anxiety just moments ago. He hadn’t done anything for himself in what felt like years, and well, that’s because it had been.

  
There’s a painting on the wall that catches his eye as soon as he enters the studio, though it’s hard not too, considering there is an artwork to grace each space of the walls which surrounds the room he stands in. But there’s something about this one draws him in for a reason he can’t place, perhaps it’s just because it’s reminiscent of a Mucha, or even a Klimt, in its divinity of the feminine.

  
Too absorbed in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the sound of footsteps pattering against the paint-stained floorboards, not until he hears your soft voice fill the room, “That’s my personal favourite”, and Steve’s eyes leave the artwork and fall upon the woman who stands close-by. When you notice him looking, you greet him with a kind smile, one that has his heart pounding against his chest once more, only this time it’s a feeling he wants to welcome.

  
“It’s wonderful, is it an amateur’s work?”, he almost wants to slap himself at his presumptuousness before he hears you snort, followed with a chuckle.

  
“Technically, I mean, I’m not a professional or anything but I have been painting ever since I could pick up a brush, so I do hope I’m at least one grade above amateur” you tease, amused by the bashfulness that falls over his features as he realises it was your painting.

  
The blonde man before you scratches the back of his neck, whilst you don’t know this yet, it’s a habit he’s been known to have for as long as he can remember, “Sorry, I uh, I just meant that..”.

  
You giggle once more before cutting him off to explain, “It’s okay, I understood what you were trying to imply” and at that, he offers you a smile of compensation, one which you gladly take. “So, what brings you into our little studio? I haven’t seen you in here before”.

  
“You sayin’ you’d remember me if you had?”, Steve’s almost shocked at his sudden flirtation, especially at the way it seems even more so with his emboldened accent.

  
For a moment, he thinks you may be as well, but all you do is raise an eyebrow and without missing a beat you respond, “A man like you, already seems impossible to forget”.

  
“Anyone ever tell ya that you’re too kind?” he says lightly, a subtle attempt to steer away from the frisky waters he feels tempted to swim towards.

  
You tilt your head slightly, as you notice the red that flushes against his cheeks, you can’t help but shrug and say, “Apparently, only the handsome, mysterious strangers that walk into my atelier”.

  
Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes him, “Mysterious, huh? Don’t think I’ve ever been called that before”.

  
“Ah, well to be fair you never answered my question before” you tell him, and at his quirked brow you repeat your earlier words, “What brings you in here?”.

  
“Oh, right! Well, um, I used to draw a lot back in the day but it kind of just got away from me”, he quickly lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding in, and his chest feels tight as he continues, “I just really needed something that was mine again, ya’know? Something to ground me”.

  
You feel a pang in your chest as you take in his expression, the man in front of you seems like the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and for everything he thinks to show on his face. So, whatever it was that was so clearly affecting him, all you knew was that you wanted to help, in any way you could. “Were you just wanting to pick up some supplies then? Just something to do in your free time?” you ask helpfully as the two of you walk around the room and pass by the materials.

  
He shakes his head, “Actually, I was interested in the night classes, and I wanted to see if there were any available spots left’’.

  
“Of course!” you smile brightly at him as the two of you come to a stop near the front the entrance door, “Night classes fall on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 7:00pm, but we also do private sessions, if you’re interested”.

  
He blushes at the suggestion, “That sounds-”

  
“Wonderful?” you add, with a smirk you can’t help even trying to hide.

  
He laughs while nodding, “Took the words right out of my mouth”.

  
As the laughter fades, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, a tension building between the two of you that’s becoming too obvious to ignore. However, attempting a slither of professionalism, you break the silence, “Um, so, I never got your name?”.

  
“Steve, uh, Steve Rogers” he tells you shyly.

  
“Steve” you say, enjoying the way it rolls off your tongue, “I’m Y/N L/N”.

  
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N” he replies, an honest grin appearing on his face.

  
And it awes you, the way your name falls from his lips, as though it’s something he wants to keep safe. Returning his affection, your eyes can’t look away from his as you hold out your hand so as to properly introduce yourselves whilst insisting, “The pleasure is all mine, Steve”.

  
It’s then that he notices, that your eyes glimmer with the same warmth that the light casts, a spark in them that almost ignites a fire within him. And though he swears he would let himself be consumed by it if he ever received the chance; he’s reminded by the weight of the band on his finger as he sticks his hand out to meet yours.

  
It’s there that you feel it, as your eyes fall to where your hands connect, and you can feel the press of cold metal against your skin. That moment is the one where you recognise the possible implications that await the two of you, but, as your eyes trail back up to meet his gaze, you think of how grateful you would be, to let yourself drown in the deep blue of his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I don’t know how good this actually is lol but I’ve had this idea in my mind for so long and I really wanted to write it. If you enjoy it, and/or would be interested in me continuing it, then please let me know. I’m also happy to receive constructive criticism, as I am not super well versed in the whole "x reader" format, so all feedback is really appreciated.
> 
> Also, if you’re interested you can follow me on Tumblr at ritesofreverie.tumblr.com where we can chat about anything and everything.
> 
> I hope you’re all doing well and staying as safe as your situation allows you to be xx


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